One Flew Over the Penguins Nest
by Darth-Rockwell
Summary: Penguin has escaped from Arkham, Bruce is busy with work, and Harvey Bullock is trying to bring Batman to justice. When Batman is caught between a madman and a crusading cop who can he turn to for help? Will his worst enemy become his salvation? R&R pleas
1. Prolog

Darkness loomed heavily over the city this moonless night. Clouds blocked starlight from reaching the earth this day while the lights that normally shone brightly from the building were blackened. All of Gotham was suffering from a power outage, even Arkham Asylum. This night would prove that quite truly does come before the storm. For accompanying the darkness was a silence unlike any Gotham had ever had experienced before. So used to hearing the blaring of alarms to sound another sociopaths bid for freedom the citizens were uneasy.

Yet in the asylum it self life went on as normal. Generators hummed along as they kept power to the doors of the cells with the occasional light. Yet for the most part darkness kept most of those there company. After all no use in spreading what power they had thin. Guards walked the halls with weapons drawn at the ready. There were taking no chances this night.

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A lone figure sat perched on the roof of a nearby building. He had come to know the patients of Arkham Asylum almost fervently over the years. Something told him at least one of them would attempt an escape this night. It would surprise him if more then one did not. So he kept his perch watching and waiting for any signs of commotion.

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It had taken three weeks of planning. Three careful weeks of making sure everything went as he had planed. Everything had to be perfect, which was very difficult given his situation at the moment. Lady luck was on his side of that he was sure of. For once his plan was working perfectly.

Tunneling was not something he liked and the triteness of it was almost beneath him. Yet the promise of freedom outweighed even the perch he placed himself on. He felt scorned, ridiculed, mocked that they would dare place him with such filth as they had. He wasn't crazy for he knew exactly what he was doing. He had even chosen to do what he had done yet they treated him like a mad man.

Oh he was mad alright. Mad at a world that allowed a man dressed in a Halloween costume to play vigilantly. At a city that turned a blind eye as the police let a truly twisted individual that dressed like a bat brake civil liberties. But there was no time to think of that, time was of the essence. Any minute he was sure the power company would find the sabotage and fix it. Which when the power came back on he planed to be far away from this horrid place.

In his cot lay a perfect manikin replica of himself which the guards would not discover tell they checked the cells once power was restored. Notes had been sent out with the laundry each day and new parts brought back. It had taken all three weeks to build it. That was what he had to do while his men worked from the outside tunneling in. It had even gone as far as placing one of his own people on the inside as a janitor. He let out a squawk of approval.

There in front of him was the end of the tunnel where his men would be awaiting him. Oswald Cobblepot was free once again. As instructed a change of clothes had been brought for him. Quickly he undressed from the blue prison clothes and downed his tuxedo. Once again he felt like the proud proper man born of high society. Umbrella clasped in is pudgy little hand he raised it up and let out a few shots. His men just looked blankly at him.

"It is time that this Penguin learned to fly my boys," he quipped as he lit a cigarette, "We have much to do but such a short time. Come now and let us be off."

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"Have you seen the paper today sir?" Alfred Pennyworth asked as he carried the serving tray into the study where Bruce Wayne sat. His back to the butler with head down it was clear he had not heard the question posed to him. "Sir if I may have a moment?" Alfred spoke up again. This time Bruce looked up with a look of puzzlement on his face.

"I'm sorry Alfred. It's just this new project that Lucius has proposed. It has me at a loss on what course to pursue." He reached up and rubbed his temples. Bags where under his eyes while his hair was not as kept as normal, from the look of him Alfred could see that the young master had not gotten any sleep since his return the night before. "What was it you were saying?"

"I was just curious if you had seen the paper this morning Master Bruce." The gentle tone in his voice was reassuring to Bruce's ears. Something by the tone in which he had been asked this time told him he would not like what it said. Yet never the less he had to know of that he was certain.

"No, I haven't. I take it that it's more then a reprinting of what caused the power outage?" Turning his head to look over his shoulder he looked at the old man who now stood beside him. How many times he had seen that face with that look on it. A look that showed caring and a since of protection, "Be straight with me Alfred. You asked I answered."

"Oh very well then," was all he uttered as he set the tray down on the desk and offered Bruce the paper.

There in black and white the title, Penguin Escapes Arkham Again. "Just what I didn't need." Shaking his head he begins to rise from his chair the tray with his breakfast all but forgotten. Between the board meeting he had this day and the night that promised to lay before him he had much to do. Then thinking better he grabbed the muffin that sat on the corner of the tray. As he made for the door he questioned, "You are driving me to work today are you not Alfred."

Sighing ever so softly he replied, "Of course Master Bruce it is just I thought you might get some rest before we left. That is all"

"There's no time for that. To much is going on today for me to be late to the office. I may be a millionaire playboy but I do have a business to run." A hint of sarcasm was almost detectable in his voice if only briefly before it vanished. He was through the door and halfway to the car by the time Alfred caught up with him.


	2. A day in the life of Harvey Bullock

He hated getting called to the commissioners office after all nothing good ever came of it. Most of the time they would en up yelling at each other only stopping short of coming to blows because neither wanted to be suspended. Yet he always answered when he was called. Part of being a good cop and he was a good cop. A darn good cop; in fact Detective Havey Bullock figured he was the best cop on the whole force.

Pulling up at the curb his car came to a stop. Chancing a glance over into the passenger seat he gave Detective Montoya a crocked grin, "Keep the car runnin. Shouldn't be long." Putting it in park he opened the door and got out. The window was partway down so he leaned over adding, "If I know the commish it's probably got somethen ta do with my latest report about Batman." With that he headed up the stairs of the police station pushing aside the officer who had opened the door.

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Commissioner Gordon was all ready in a bad mood. The report sitting open on his desk did nothing to help alleviate it. Head held in both hands he sat hunched over at his desk. Bullock was nothing but a pain in his side; a pain that kept criminals in check. That was the problem. Bullock was a good cop, a hard worker even but it was he just rubbed people the wrong way. Most of the time the people he rubbed were the wrong people to be rubbing to begin with which was what made Gordon so mad. Some how the Mayor had received a copy of this very report, normally that wouldn't have upset him but it was what the report said.

"What am I going to do with you Harvey?" He asked himself. A gentle breeze was coming through the window at the moment. What he wouldn't give for Batman to show up at this moment. Yet the chances of him showing up right now where slim to none as it was only 10:15 am. So early in the morning and all ready so hot, seventy-five degrees. The heat wasn't helping.

There came a nock on his door. He knew who it was instantly by the silhouette. "Come in Bullock," his voice trying to sound welcoming but coming off tired instead.

"Ya wanted to see me chief?" was the reply he got as the large detective entered the room. Bullock wasted no time in grabbing a doughnut from the open box by the door. Promptly he started to stuff it in his mouth while grabbing another. "Came as soon as I heard ya wanted to talk to me," this last part barley audible through a mouth full of pastry.

"Cut the crap Bullock you know why I wanted to see you. So lets just get to the point." He sat up in his seat looking the other man in the eye, "How did Mayor Hall get a copy of this report?"

"I gave it ta him." No pause, no missed beat. Harvey kept his eye contact.

"And you did this because…"

"Listen commish, it aint right what that wacko is doin. We say where here ta protect the people of Gotham but we let a masked vigilantly run around shakin down who ever he wants for information. Someone's gota stand up for the little man."

"So you thought you would take it upon your self is that it?"

"Pretty much," Bullock had started on the second doughnut.

"Well Harvey," Gordon stood up and leaned over his desk, "Batman has helped in the apprehension of some of the most dangerous criminals this city has faced. I think he deserves to be commended not strung up."

"Let him put on a badge then." Harvey leaned forward with just as much intensity. "Let him do things legally. Then there wouldn't be no problem. He's just as bad as the people he's puttin away."

"While I am commissioner you will respect my decisions Harvey or I'll have your badge. Is that understood?"

"You threaten me Gordon?"

Exasperated from this argument Jim Gordon sat back down closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "Look, we all ready get enough heat from the mayors office without inviting more in or selves. Besides if I remember right Batman helped you with the finding who wanted to kill you."

Bullocks face went red. He hadn't told anyone about that so the only way that Commissioner Gordon could know was if Batman had told him. The color quickly left his face, "I gota get back to Montoya. She'll be wondering what's taking so long." Not waiting to be dismissed he got up grabbing yet another doughnut and left the office.

Gordon could do nothing but sigh. Life was only going to get more interesting of that he was sure of. But Bullock had made a good argument, how long could they turn a blind eye to how Batman went about getting information. People had rights regardless if they were guilty or not. Besides weren't people innocent tell proven guilty? Things used to be so black and white when he had started now alls he saw was grey.

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As he stepped out into the heat Harvey looked over his shoulder up at the building. He had done what he had to. If Gordon didn't like it well that was just tuff someone had to stand up for the everyday person. Even if they didn't know or think they need to be stood up for. "Stupid weirdo," he muttered under his breath as he headed back to the car. How could the people of Gotham support a man who ran around in a costume was beyond him.

Retracting his hand quickly from the handle of the door he cursed under his breath. Montoya reached across the car pushing the door open, "So what did the Commissioner want this time Harvey?" A smile was on her beautiful face. Montoya was a nice person, a friendly person, a people person. That bugged Bullock, yet he knew that it also bugged her to be working with him. However they made a good team which both of them knew so they continued to work together.

"Same old thing," was his reply as he slid into the car. Reaching up he put the seatbelt on. "What say we grab somethin ta eat?" Putting the car into drive he pulled back onto the street heading away from the station and back to the job. There were people to protect.

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Finally his shift was over time to go home. Home was a one bedroom apartment in a slummy part of the city. He had gotten the place to remind him why he was a cop. The guy downstairs seemed to be oblivious that this wasn't the uptown district but hey you can't chose your neighbors. Stepping inside he turned to check his mail. Nothing. No surprise there he didn't get mail except for bills. Closing his box he headed up the stairs to his apartment.

Flipping on the light he took a quick visual inventory of the place. There was a half eaten pizza on the table, his sofa was covered in paper work, dishes piled up next to and in the sink, and dirty clothes every where. Everything was as he had left it. Making his way to the couch he just shoved some papers aside to sit down. Some of them fell to the floor, he just let them. Searching for the remote to his television he reached into the crack between the cushion. "Holy mother of!" he let out as he withdrew his hand. Blood dripped from a couple of his finger tips.

Standing up he tore the cushion off the couch went sent more papers fly. To his surprise was a nest of baby mice with a momma mouse standing guard. Still having his gun attached under his arm he pulled it. "You aint calling this home sister." Then the pounding on the floor began. "Stupid idiot," he muttered. He really hated the guy below him.

Holstering his weapon he set out to find his dust pan and broom. He had an aquarium somewhere around this place. Put the little rodents in there for the evening he'd take care of getting rid of them in the morning. Finding the aquarium and dustpan he captured the little critters putting them into it without any problem.

Being tired he figured it was time to retire. Fist though he had to take care of his hand. Getting to the bathroom he opened the medicine cabinet pulling out some hydrogen peroxide. Pouring it over the bites it foamed and sizzled as it disinfected. Next he put some ointment on it followed by a bandage. Now it was time for bed.


	3. A day in the life of Bruce Wayne

He was here, Wayne Enterprise, his company his building. This wasn't him. Bruce Wayne may have been the name he was given at birth. Been the person his parents had meant him to be, but that was before they were killed. It was before they were murdered for a few petty dollars that in the end didn't matter to anyone. He had not been shot that night, had not been cut down in cold blood but he might as well have died that night. No he wasn't Bruce Wayne. He was Batman.

Batman was who he truly was. Bruce Wayne was the real mask he wore. However Bruce was the man that all inside were expecting to see. Time to play a role and dance a dance just as he had done for all these years, something he would have to do for many more. Everyone expected him to act a certain way. To do things that were irresponsible all because he had been born rich then suffered tragedy. It frustrated him to no end.

Why couldn't some one who was young who suffered the loss of both parents grow up to be a normal healthy member of society? Was it because he was from a wealthy family, if that the case shouldn't they expected him to try and better the world as his father had. All these thoughts rushing through his head he had not even noticed that he all ready had reached his office. Standing there as usual was Lucius Fox.

Lucius cared about the business but most of all Bruce knew that he cared about him too. As much as Lucius wanted Wayne Enterprise to do well he wanted Bruce to be happy. 'One of the few,' Bruce thought to himself, "Lucius wasting no time I see."

"Do I ever Bruce?" Was the tall heavy set black mans reply, "Besides we got a busy day today. You got all those nice fun board meetings to attend." A sparkle was in the mans eye as he winked at Bruce, "Besides someone has to show you this." He held up a tape all of a sudden his voice had gone hard, upset.

"What's wrong?"

"Another break-in. This time at Wayne Tech."

"What was taken?"

"That's what makes it so damn confusing Bruce. Nothing. Just a message."

"A message?" Bruce's eyebrow raised as he looked at Lucius, "What kind of message?"

"A message for Batman, though I have no idea why they thought you could get it to him. Gordon has a copy too. Police are looking into it." Was the answer he got. "Maybe Penguin figured since Wayne Enterprise suffers so much crime you had Batman on speed dial." The last part was lost on Bruce, the cogs all ready turning in the part of his mind that was the detective.

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Using the whole break-in as a way to get out of meetings Bruce had sent Lucius to them in his place. For every practical purpose Lucius Fox was better at running the company then he was anyway. Now in his darkened office the tape played yet another time. It puzzled him as to what the Penguins true plan was. Because what this showed, what he said couldn't be true. Or could it?

Had he become so cynical and without hope that he couldn't believe what the Penguin was saying? Something told him no that wasn't the case; he just knew Cobblepot to well. He had heard these kinds of things from far to many criminals to believe him. It was always the same story to cover their master plan. So what game was this flightless bird playing this time?

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Night had finally come. Time had come to put on his true face, the face that stuck fear in the hearts of those who preyed on the fearful. What lights there were in the cave illuminated the main portion but caused shadows to dance on the perimeter. He pulled the cowl over his face. Bruce Wayne was gone and in his place now stood Batman. From behind him he heard someone cough.

"I'm going alone," was the only acknowledgement he gave before heading towards the batmobile. The sound of booted feet behind him only made him move faster. With a simple jump he was sitting in the seat with the hood retracting to close off the interior. Yet the other costumed figure kept approaching. Dick Grayson, Robin, came to a halt at the window. Slowly it rolled down.

"I said I was going alone," he kept his gaze forward never even glancing at the young man who he was addressing, "So go back inside."

"Aren't you a wonderful conversationalist," Robin quipped back at him. "You may need me. More then likely this is a trap."

"I know." With that he hit the gas leaving Robin in smoke and dust. Things were changing. That was bound to happen he knew, after all things could remain the same for ever. It was just part of getting older, to bad there wasn't an easier way. How did could he let Bruce know he wasn't losing him in the same way they both had lost their parents. He shook his head then headed back to the mansion. If Batman didn't want his help well then he wasn't going to force it on him.

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Turning down the street that would bring him to Wayne Tech Batman noticed all the street lamps were broken. Surely the city would have taken care of that by now if they had been that way when the police had investigated the break in. He made a mental note of it and continued on. The car raced down the road way as he neared his destination. Pulling up in front of the building he got out only to see Jim Gordon all ready there.

"Thought you would show up tonight," was the police commissioners welcome, "Couldn't figure out why you weren't here last night, for that matter why we weren't aware of it tell we got the tape. Or at least not tell a little while ago."

He said nothing but just looked at the man. Gordon had been one of the few that had believed in him when he started his crusade. And still he was one of the few. Something's never changed.

Seeing as he wasn't going to get a reply Gordon went on, "The security alarm was turned off."

That meant Penguin had had help from the inside. But how could that be? As Bruce Wayne he had made sure that the process for hiring was one of the strictest in the city. The amount of background checks city, state, and federal no one with any hint of criminal behavior should have gotten through. "You're sure? After all the power was out across the city."

"We thought of that," Gordon started, "But then we noticed the tape has a time in the corner. Three thirty two am. Power was back on by then."

So he had help. That was something to go on. Something he would have to look into tomorrow. Tonight however there was the building its self to look at. "Anything else?" Short and to the point he hadn't made a habit of long drawn out conversations as Batman. The more he talked the more likely someone would recognize his voice.

"That's all we got so far. Nothings missing, there was nothing tampered with, not like the Penguin," he stopped looked at the ground then looked back at Batman, "You think he could mean what he said in his message?"

"No." His voice lingered but he was gone. Gordon hated when he did that. In all the time that he had know Batman he didn't think there had ever been a proper end to a conversation. Not that he could really call what they had conversations. Running a hand through his hair he turned and headed home.

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Sitting quietly in the shadows he scanned over the area. From first glance everything looked fine. He knew the police had been over this place with a fine toothed comb but maybe there was something they missed. That is what he intended to find out. Descending from the perch he had found he began to walk the floor of the building.

Wayne Tech was a huge open building with machinery everywhere that helped in the discovery of new and better technology. In fact this was where most of the new gadgets Batman used came from. All part of being a billionaire superhero he smiled to himself. As he continued to slowly walk the floor he noticed that there was a small corner of a paper sticking out from under one of machines. Going to it he stooped down trying to lift the corner of the machine up. Quickly he pulled the corner of the paper as the machine slipped through his grasp.

He found himself holding a business card. Something he knew was left for him to find. The Grand Majestic was all it read in big bold black letters. Then it hit him. That was an old club for the rich and famous of Gothem. Many of times had he visited it as a young man but it was condemned. "The perfect hiding place for Penguin."


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